


a moment hidden

by bacchics



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 05:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12742254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bacchics/pseuds/bacchics
Summary: Her laugh is shaky, “We can’t always have what we want.”





	a moment hidden

    “We shouldn’t,” She’s got two hands pressed to his abdomen, holding him back, stopping herself. They’re outside and it’s freezing and she’s shaking, teeth rattling, biting down on her lip relentlessly. The stars are spying on them, they must be.

    “No, we shouldn’t,” His voice is soft, rough, smooth, deep,  _ velvet _ . His hand rises, thumb gliding over her lip, pulling it away from the onslaught of her teeth; the motion makes her look up. He’s staring at her, eyes blue, piercing, glittering, two dark sapphires in the night. “But you want to.”

    “So do you.”

    “More than anything else.” There’s certainty in his words. Stone foundation, unwavering, a building that would never break.

    Her laugh is shaky, “We can’t always have what we want.”

    “I thought my parentage guaranteed that I get everything I want.”

   A snort escapes her and she tips her head back, shaking her head at the sky. The sky and the stars that are spying on them. A hand wraps itself in his hemline and pulls him to her until their inches apart. Her tongue travels out across her bitten lip and he watches, unashamed. When he finds her gaze, she’s shaky and sure and lost and found all at the same time and it’s driving her  _ mad. _ “That arrogant facade you just tried, it’s paper thin. Tracing paper thin. Don’t try it again.”

    He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her to him, lifts her so she’s tiptoed on the grass with no effort in her stance. He’s basically holding her but they're squared up now and she can feel his heart against her chest and she’s still got that hand wrapped in his shirt, so she doesn’t mention it. 

    “You’re right,” He hums. “You’re always right.” Their breaths are mingling now, little, misted puffs brushing against one another because it’s so gods’ damn frigid. He doesn’t once look away from her, not to check if anyone is there, not to check if the dryads are peaking through their foliage. He keeps on staring like she’s the moon, the sun, the stars that are spying on them; like she’s everything. “So, what’ll it be?” The hand around her waist slips underneath her shirt, not much, but enough. Enough for her to close her eyes, enough to for her to feel the heat of his fingertips burning red-hot against her hip, enough for her to make up her mind. “Ann—” She slaps a hand over his mouth, cuts him off before he can finish. 

    When she opens her eyes, she finds him with knitted brows, squinted eyes, dread laced throughout, but they disappear, vanish completely as she moves her hand underneath his jaw and pulls their lips together. They move back and forth, biting at one another, teeth clacking, breath hot against the other’s skin. A pressure builds in her chest, right behind her sternum, a wild, excitable energy that keeps her kissing him, kissing until their out of breath. They both pull back, foreheads pressed against the other. He’s still got that hand on her hip.

    “Take me somewhere.”

    He raises a brow, eyes gleaming, cheeks flushed, hair disheveled and she can practically feel the hole Aphrodite’s burning into her back as she watches from the stars. 

    “If we’re going to fuck ourselves over, I want a view.”

**Author's Note:**

> All kudos and comments are received with pleasure and gratitude. 
> 
> Thank you.


End file.
